Invincible
by surefireglambert
Summary: AU. Blaine and Kurt, both dealing with their own battles with cancer, get placed in the same room together at their hospital. What progresses from there is exactly what they'd been looking for, but were too scared to give in to. Cancer!Klaine. TWOSHOT.
1. Chapter 1

**Inspired by (NOT based on) the AMAZING book, **_**The Fault in Our Stars**_** by John Green. Story title is from the Jesse McCartney song "Invincible".**

**Disclaimer: Anything that may be recognizable to **_**The Fault in Our Stars**_** or Glee belongs to its respective owners.**

**There will be a second part to this.**

**Trigger warning: Character death(s)**

* * *

"_But it can't be life threatening, can it? I mean, he only has the flu!"_

"_I'm afraid this is much more than the simple flu, Mrs. Anderson." The doctor had a pained expression on his face, one he'd perfected well during his time in the medical field. The news he was about to deliver was one that shouldn't have been said as much as it was._

"_Well then what is it?" the man, the woman's husband, asked in a gruff voice that didn't seem to match his clean shaven and poised demeanor._

"_It's…" the doctor trailed off. "Your son, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, has… he has leukemia."_

_A terrified silence overtook the miniscule office. All three heads turned to look at the young boy of eight years playing weakly with two action figures in a hospital bed. He looked worn out, but still had a smile and shining hazel eyes that lit up even more when he saw the three pairs of eyes looking in his direction._

"_This is ridiculous," Mrs. Anderson huffed. "Blaine simply has the flu. Yes, it may be a little more severe than in the past, but he's perfectly fine." She looked at her husband, who had yet to say a word. "I told you Honey, nothing's wrong." She began to walk out of the room when Mr. Anderson grabbed her arm._

"_Sweetie, you can't just… pretend that this isn't happening—"_

"_Denial is a very common coping method for those in your situation Mrs. Anderson—"_

"_I'm not in denial!" she exclaimed, ripping her arms out of her husband's grasp. "Our son does not have… he doesn't…" She began taking large breaths, choking back sobs before bursting into hysterics._

_Mr. Anderson immediately grabbed her and pulled his wife close, rubbing a soothing hand over her back. The doctor noticed tears glistening in the man's eyes as well, but it was obvious he was trying to stay strong for his wife._

"_Is it alright if I speak to your son?"_

_Mr. Anderson simply nodded slightly and the doctor left the office, clicking the door shut behind him._

**x.x.x.x**

**Nine Years Later**

Blaine put on his headphones and let the sounds of Katy Perry soothe him. For the past year and a half, he'd used the pop icon to try to feel normal, like a regular kid who didn't have to spend most of his days in the hospital.

The door creaked open and his doctor stepped through the threshold. "Hey Blaine. How's your world looking today?"

"Pretty good Bill. The usual. What about you?"

"Same old, same old." William Reynolds, or Bill to his most frequent patients, was a man of his late thirties with jet black hair that, Blaine had come to notice, was always spiked in the front. He had deep green eyes and a personality that could put anyone at ease, a quality perfect for his profession. He, his wife Michelle and their ten-year-old twins, David and Maria, had become like an extended family to the Andersons ever since Bill had first diagnosed Blaine when he was eight.

"What new treatment do you have for me this time?" Blaine questioned. He was used to having to come back to the hospital at a moment's notice as soon as one of the doctors heard of a new treatment that could possibly get him cancer-free again.

"Nothing groundbreaking, but we are prepping your next chemotherapy session and some of our researchers are working to get more information on a couple of new types of medication that they feel could work well for you." Bill grinned as Blaine rolled his eyes. "You've got to stay open to this stuff, Kid. When your cancer came back two years ago, it came back stronger than before. I have faith in you to get through this, but we've got to fight hard."

"I know, I know. I hear that from my parents and brother practically every day." Blaine smiled, looking up at the man he considered his second father. "So is that it?"

"Actually, no," Bill answered. "The main reason I came in is because you're going to be getting a roommate within the next day or so." Blaine looked puzzled as Bill pointed to the other side of the room, which was set up identical to the side Blaine was on.

"How can I have a roommate somewhere I don't live…?"

"That's the other part." Bill paused, glancing at Blaine quickly before averting his gaze, unable to look the boy in his sad eyes. "Because of the intensity of the chemo you'll be going through, we want you to stay here so we can keep an eye on how your body reacts. I know it's not ideal, but it's in your best interest."

"I always hear that these things are in my best interest," Blaine mumbled, thumbing through his iPod, "but I don't ever recall having a say in that conversation. How do you all know that I don't just want to die and save myself and everyone else the trouble?"

"Because I've known you a long time and the Blaine I know has always been the biggest fighter I know." Bill grinned. "Do I need to sing the song?"

Blaine cracked a smile, the response Bill had been hoping for. "Please don't. You're a horrid singer."

"Fine, fine," Bill complied, turning to leave the room, but not without humming the beginning of the chorus to "Fighter" by Christina Aguilera, much to Blaine's dismay.

Blaine rolled his eyes, turning back to his iPod and turning on a new song, completely forgetting about what Bill had said about a roommate.

**x.x.x.x**

He heard them before he could see them.

The mumbling had started a ways down the hall and had gotten louder and louder before he saw five individuals, one of the Bill, enter his room.

"This is it," Bill said, motioning to the room in a grand fashion. "It doesn't look like much, but many patients enjoy adding their own touches to their rooms to make them more home-y."

"There you go Bud," a man, possibly the parent or family member of the boy who was standing next to him, said, nudging the boy. "It can be just like home."

"Doubt it," the boy mumbled. Blaine heard shuffling, then the sound of weight shifting on the other bed. He shifted in his own bed, trying to situate himself so he could inconspicuously look at the boy over the top of the book he'd been reading without obviously staring.

The boy was, as Blaine inched over to the edge of the bed to get a closer look, one of the most beautiful boys he'd ever seen. He had what Blaine could tell was a designer bandana covering his head and piercing eyes of some unknown color that seemed to change with each passing moment. He was wearing dark wash jeans that flattered him in all the right places and a tight fit t-shirt that accentuated his subtle muscular build.

In Blaine's humble opinion.

"Mr. Hummel, I'd appreciate it if you could accompany me to my office just down the hall to discuss some financial matters."

"Of course Doctor Reynolds," said the man, whose last name was apparently "Hummel". "Kurt, I'll come back in a little bit, okay? Finn and Carole are going to head to the cafeteria to grab a bite to eat."

The boy, who was still sitting on the other bed and the one Mr. Hummel had called "Kurt", grunted and turned face-down on the lumpy mattress. The man sighed and followed Bill out of the room, the other two, presumably "Finn and Carole", trailed behind and headed in the opposite direction. The door clicked shut quiet behind them.

An uncomfortable silence filled the room. Blaine quietly shifted back to his original position in his bed. He'd only read two paragraphs before he heard a thump. He looked up to find a pillow on the floor near the wall opposite Kurt's bed.

"This sucks."

Blaine didn't say a word in response to Kurt's comment. He didn't even know if he was supposed to.

"I know you want to say something." Blaine's head whipped around, looking at Kurt directly for the first time as the boy spoke. "I'm so used to the looks of people who feel they need to say something to the flamboyant, gay kid with cancer. So just come out with it. I can take it."

"Oh, I…" Blaine trailed off, unable to come up with something to say to this to this boy who'd just told him something personal within the first minute of knowing him. "I… I don't want to say anything."

Kurt shrugged. "Fine."

Blaine looked down at his book again, trying to concentrate on his reading, but failing every time he felt Kurt's gaze on him. He looked up and made eye contact with the boy.

"I guess… my first instinct was to ask if there was something you wanted to vent about. I've been told I'm a really good listener." He managed a half smile.

Kurt stared at him, obviously taken aback by the comment. "You don't need me dumping my problems on you."

"I have my own problems, sure, but that doesn't mean I can't help you feel better about yours. For a little while, at least."

After a few minutes of silence, Blaine turned back to his book. He'd read about three sentences when he heard a soft, careful voice that sounded nothing like the confident, annoyed one he'd heard before.

"Bone cancer," Kurt stated. "Started in my left shoulder and has since spread to areas in my legs and arms. I'm here because they want to monitor my treatment and they suspect the cancer has spread to more important places. Been playing the "How much longer am I going to live until they stop caring and I die" game for five year; since I was twelve." Kurt stopped, taking his eyes off their fixed spot on the wall and looking at Blaine. "And that's my story."

Blaine contemplated this for a moment. "Leukemia. Twice, actually. First when I was eight, then I went into remission, then after four years of being cancer-free, it came back twice as hard when I was fifteen. In and out of here ever since."

Kurt didn't say anything for a while, but Blaine's gaze never left him. "Wow. I mean, I've been dealing with this for a long time, but it must be awful to get a taste of freedom and then have it come back even worse than before. And I was feeling sorry for myself," he said after several minutes.

"I never want anyone's sympathy. The world has bigger problems than some teenage kid who practically lives in the hospital. I know I'm going to die sooner than other people my age. Much sooner. But there are others who need the sympathy much more than I do, people who have a chance in life. If anyone want to feel bad for someone, I'd rather it be those them."

Kurt stared at Blaine. "You're really somethin', you know that?"

Blaine just smiled and, for the first time, Kurt smiled back.

**x.x.x.x**

It only took two weeks for Blaine's hair to start falling out again.

He'd been so proud of the fact that it'd grown back, just as bushy as before, since his last round of chemo that he was twice as upset this time, even though he had been expecting it.

When Blaine had made it back to his room after grabbing a bite to eat one day, he noticed Kurt sitting up in his bed, leaning against the metal rods with his head back and his eyes closed. Not wanting to disturb him, Blaine crawled quietly into his own bed. He and Kurt had been talking more and more and Blaine would love to venture that they were actually considered "friends".

"We need to get you something new to wear instead of that ratty old baseball hat."

"I thought you were sleeping?" Blaine said.

"Just resting. The chemo they have me on sucks." Kurt opened his eyes, groaning as he shifted so he was sitting up completely straight. "And my entire body aches. But that doesn't mean you don't need a new hat."

"But this one has sentimental value!" Blaine exclaimed. "I got this with my dad after my first round of chemo when I was eight."

"I didn't say you had to throw it away," Kurt murmured and Blaine could tell he was thinking. "Here, come look." He motioned Blaine over and opened a duffel bag that, Blaine realized, was practically filled with bandanas of different patterns and colors.

"I think you have a problem…" Blaine mused, rifling through the bag. "I don't think I could pull any of these off."

"O ye of little faith, I have the perfect one for you." Kurt began pulling designer bandanas out of the bag until he pulled out one that showcased the Ohio State Buckeyes logo on the top.

"Why in the world would you have this one?" Blaine questioned. Although he'd only known Kurt for a couple of weeks, he'd come to realize that sports weren't his thing and that a bandana featuring any sports teams was severely out of place compared to the rest of his collection.

"Sports-crazed uncle who has yet to accept the fact that I don't enjoy watching sweaty men jump on top of each other." Kurt grinned, tossing the other boy the piece of fabric.

Blaine examined it, the cloth bright with the team's colors. "I don't even know how to tie one of these."

"A cancer kid who doesn't know how to tie a bandana?"

Blaine motioned to his hat and Kurt grimaced.

"I'll show you anything you need to know if you won't wear that thing anymore."

"And now I'm personally offended." Blaine sat on the edge if Kurt's bed as the boy took the bandana back and positioned it on Blaine's bare head.

As Kurt moved to tie the knot, his fingers brushed against the skin on the back of Blaine's neck. He blushed as Blaine let a chill shoot through his body as he became red as well. He quickly finished tying the knot, pulling out a mirror from the bedside table for Blaine to see himself.

"I hate to admit how much I love this…" he muttered, ignoring Kurt's satisfied smirk. "But this really doesn't look half bad. Thank you." Before realizing what he was doing, Blaine leaned over to give Kurt a one-armed hug.

Kurt immediately stiffened and Blaine pulled away quickly after realizing the possible implications of what he'd done. He moved back to his own bed and retrieved his book from his bedside table, never looking the other boy in the eye.

It was a long night of awkward silence before both boys turned out their respective lights an hour later.

**x.x.x.x**

_Friends hug all the time_, Blaine continued to tell himself the next day. _Cooper does those "bro hugs" with his friends all the time._

_But I doubt your brother thinks he has feelings for those friends,_ the other side of his mind countered. Blaine huffed when he realized he didn't have a retort for himself.

He looked over at the bed next to him where Kurt was still sleeping. He let himself stare at the boy until Kurt flipped over and Blaine saw that most all of the boy's face, from the nose down, was covered with bright red liquid.

Terrified, Blaine hit his button that was there so he could call in a nurse at any time and no more than five seconds later, a nurse named Chloe was in the room.

"Kurt." Blaine motioned to the boy. He couldn't get himself to say anything else.

"I'll take care of it Blaine," she said soothingly. "There's nothing wrong with him." She walked over to Kurt's bed and nudged him, jolting him out of his slumber. "Kurt?"

He was disoriented for a moment, and then looked down at his pillow covered in blood and groaned. "Not again. I was doing so well this time." He carefully stood up, wincing and slowly followed Chloe out of the room, holding a towel to his face.

Ten minutes later, Kurt returned, a new towel in his hand. "Literally the worse part of the chemo. After the whole not-being-able-to-move-without-wanting-to-die part."

"You know you scared me to death, right?"

"Unintentional. The nosebleeds come whenever I go through chemo and this time, since it's a stronger procedure, the nosebleeds are apparently stronger too." He groaned as he sat back down on his bed. "And I really wish my body would stop hating me more than it already does."

"Well, even though I've been known to sometimes get queasy at the sight of blood, let me know if I can ever do anything to help you."

"The kid with a blood-based cancer doesn't like the sight of blood…"

"I'm convinced the two are interrelated," Blaine said as he and Kurt started to laugh.

**x.x.x.x**

Blaine had been anticipating it before it happened.

While Kurt dealt with his own side effects to the chemo, Blaine had been waiting for his own to kick in. Unlike Kurt, though, Blaine didn't have nosebleeds. He got sick to his stomach. And usually threw up. It didn't bother him much anymore, but that didn't mean it was any less annoying or any less disgusting.

He woke up in the middle of the night with that recognizable sick feeling in his stomach and a bitter taste in his mouth. Blaine grappled for something, anything, to get sick into, eventually finding the Subway bag that had held the sandwich his brother Cooper had brought him earlier. He got sick to the smell of onions and tomato sauce, which did nothing to ease the feeling in his stomach, until the wave of nausea subsided.

He wiped his face with a washcloth from his bedside table and looked over at Kurt. The boy was still sleeping and Blaine stood up as quietly as possible in an attempt to keep from waking him. He got about halfway to the standing position and then felt the feeling growing in his stomach, causing him to immediately sit back down.

Blaine repeated the process three more times, never getting any farther than he did the first time. He resigned to pressing his button and summoning a nurse to come. As soon as he reached for the button, the feeling came back tenfold and got sick on the bedside table.

Once he felt he had sufficiently emptied his stomach, he groaned and shifted away from the disgusting smell as the nurse walked in.

"Oh Blaine," she said in a sympathetic voice. "Let me get you cleaned up. Can you stand?"

Blaine said nothing, only turned to try to stand up, but immediately sat back down. His head was pounding and he could barely see and his stomach felt queasy and all he wanted to do was go hide somewhere where he could be a normal kid for once in his life.

"I'll bring in a wheelchair and we'll get you cleaned up, okay?"

He simply nodded as the nurse jogged out of the room. He closed his eyes, willing his stomach to cooperate for thirty seconds, but as his luck would have it, he found himself reaching for something else to get sick in.

Blaine couldn't have told anyone where it came from, but all of a sudden, a garbage can was in his hands and a warm body was next to him and a soothing hand was rubbing his back. He didn't even notice the nurse as she came back and the mystery person helped him into the chair. Blaine handed off the garbage and closed his eyes as he was wheeled out of the room.

**x.x.x.x**

Blaine couldn't remember getting back to his bed, but when he woke up later that morning, light streaming in through the window, he was in his bed and feeling more comfortable that he had in a long time. He turned to see if Kurt was awake yet when he noticed the other boy's bed was empty.

He sat up slowly, finding it more difficult than normal and not just because he didn't feel like throwing up again. He looked on the other side of him and noticed Kurt lying next to him, a serene look on his face. Blaine blushed bright red as he realized how happy he was that Kurt was lying next to him. As he tried to shift so he was lying on his other side, he accidentally knocked Kurt enough to wake him up.

"Hmm," he moaned, cracking open his eyes ever so slightly. "Blaine?"

"H-Hey Kurt," he said hesitantly, finally getting comfortable again. As soon as he got settled, the sick feeling returned to the pit of his stomach and he groaned, reaching down for the garbage can next to his bed, recognizing it as the one he'd been given earlier that morning.

As he got sick, he felt a hand on his shoulder and another vaguely familiar hand rubbing up and down his back.

When he felt he could remove his face from the garbage can, Blaine looked to his side, finding Kurt kneeling beside him.

"It…" Blaine closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, suddenly feeling worn out. "It was you this morning?"

Kurt nodded, a slightly scared look taking over his features. "Y-Yeah. I hope it didn't make you feel uncomfortable because if it did, I'm really sor—"

"Kurt," Blaine interrupted. "Don't worry about it. I've never… h-had anyone who cared enough about me to want to help me like that. Outside of my family and the hospital staff anyway."

"Oh." Kurt was quiet, seeming like he didn't know quite what to say. "Well… I mean, if you don't care…" He chuckled, playing with his bandana and biting his lip. "I'm always here if you need me. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon."

Blaine laughed shyly. "Thank you. As long as you don't get sick at the sight or sound of vomit because I'll be getting sick for a while. There's not much that you can promise in life, but that's one thing I know I can."

"I'm fine," Kurt assured. "Now go back to sleep. I heard Dr. Reynolds come in this morning and he told me you don't have a chemo session today."

Blaine gave him a grateful smile and laid back down slowly, noticing how Kurt carefully put a comforting arm around his torso. He welcomed the gesture, closing his eyes and drifting to sleep with a weak smile on his face.

**x.x.x.x**

About a week later, Blaine was being whisked away from his and Kurt's debate of what the best Vogue cover of all time was by a very worried looking Bill. Blaine didn't let it faze him; he was used to people looking at him with concerned expressions.

"Blaine, I wanted to be the one to tell you," Bill began once they were in his office down the hall, "about something new we've learned concerning your cancer."

Bill sat up straighter in his chair, causing Blaine to shift nervously in his. "Your body," Bill began, "has been working so hard to remove the bad cells that it's worn out your healthy ones. Now, you know that it's common for you to have a weaker immune system than healthy kids, right?"

Blaine nodded, still not entirely sure where Bill was getting at.

"Well, because of the intense chemotherapy we've had you go through and all the other procedures of top of that, your immune system has weakened so much, that you've become extremely vulnerable to sicknesses. More so than before."

"Does that mean I have to be in one of those padded room where everything's sterilized?" Blaine tried to joke, but it came out choked.

"No, because everyone and everything in your unit it kept immaculately clean for this reason. Visitors will be limited though and they'll have to go through a lot different of a process to visit you now than before. This also doesn't mean that your body can't fight off anything. You'll just be a lot more vulnerable than before." Bill stopped, taking a deep breath and rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't want this to change your life too much Blaine, but you always say you want the truth. And right now, if you're exposed to the wrong thing, then…"

The trailing off caused Blaine to break down. He knew how that was meant to end. Then you'll die. He couldn't wrap his head around the idea.

The older man stood and walked over to Blaine, who now looked and felt young and helpless. "You know we'll all be working as hard as we can to fix this. You're so strong Blaine; I have all the faith in the world in you."

Blaine tried to believe him, he really did, but he knew the truth. The end, which had been put off much longer than that of many other patients, had come near and now all Blaine could do was wait to die. Even if Bill tried to convince him that it wasn't directly fatal, he knew the truth. Sicknesses as simple as a cold virus were practically unavoidable and no one could predict when or how they'd affect him.

He stood up and walked out of the office without another word and trudged back to his and Kurt's room, not making eye contact with anyone along the way. When he arrived at the room, he found it to be empty. As Blaine walked over to his bed, he found a piece of paper lying next to his pillow.

_Gone for a stupid chemo treatment. Hope everything's okay. We'll continue the debate when I get back ;)_

_-Kurt_

Although the note was short, it took Blaine five minutes to read the whole thing. He kept getting caught up in the short second sentence. Hope everything's okay.

Blaine knew he wasn't okay, not in the slightest. But he was determined not to tell Kurt. Not yet at least. The other boy had enough on his plate, the last thing he needed was to worry about Blaine.

He put the note on his bedside table and noticed his old notebook. He'd used it to take out his anger on the cancer and hadn't touched it in a while. Not since he'd met Kurt.

Picking up the notebook, he suddenly had an idea. Blaine grabbed the pen from the table, opened to a fresh sheet of paper and began to write.

_Dear Kurt…_


	2. Chapter 2

"Please Blaine?" Kurt continued to beg. "It would be so fun and I didn't get to go to prom at my old school. I'd love to be able to go with my best friend."

Those words, _best friend_, killed Blaine inside, but he hid his disgust with a roll of his eyes and an amused grin. "I don't do dance Kurt, especially these ones. The hospital has good intentions, but their attempt at a social event is usually awkward herd of teenagers all clustered in the same room."

"And how would you know, Mr. Negativity?"

"I went with a friend of mine when I was thirteen. Even though they have separate dances for the different aged patients, it was still awkward. We ended up spending most of the time talking in a corner."

"Well then, even if we end up in a corner, I still want to go with you." Kurt flashed Blaine what Blaine had secretly dubbed "the puppy dog face" and he knew he had no way of getting out of going. Not when Kurt was looking at him like that.

"Fine," Blaine resigned, grinning when Kurt let out a squeal and clapped his hands.

"Okay. So we're going to need to coordinate what colors we'll be wearing so we don't clash and I need to figure out what I'm going to wear and we'll need to…" Kurt continued to ramble on while Blaine just smiled. He allowed himself to stare gratuitously at Kurt's plump lips and the way his eyes crinkled and his whole face lit up when he got excited…

_You have a major problem_, his self-conscious interrupted. _You can't fall for him. You can't let him get attached and then have to deal with what you know is coming closer and closer_.

Blaine knew that his self-conscious was right. He'd been having this argument with himself for days. If there was one thing he knew for sure anymore, it was that Kurt deserved a long life with someone he loved. Not a fling that could only last an indeterminable number of days.

"Sound good?" Kurt asked excitedly. That jolted Blaine out of his thoughts as he scrambled to try to figure out what exactly the other boy was talking about.

Kurt took the hesitation for exactly what it was. "No idea what I'm talking about, do you?" He grinned as Blaine smiled sheepishly.

"Absolutely none," Blaine admitted. "Besides prom."

"Don't worry about it," Kurt said, standing up and crossing the room to sit close to Blaine on his bed. "As long as we're having fun together, all that stuff doesn't matter. Right?"

Blaine swallowed a large lump in his throat as he tried to answer the simple question. "R-Right," he stuttered, allowing himself to be pulled into one of Kurt's tight hugs as a single tear escaped down his cheek.

**x.x.x.x**

"Okay you two, smile!" Blaine's mother Diane exclaimed as her son and Kurt posed for what felt like the hundredth picture.

"Mom, can we please stop? I mean, Carole stopped taking pictures thirty shots ago!" Blaine whined, pointing to Kurt's stepmother Carole, who was standing in the background, her arm around Burt.

"Aw Blaine, it's just," she trailed off, wiping a tear away from her eye. "I never got to take pictures of you going to a school dance. So this is like prom day for other parents." She smiled in Kurt's direction. "Especially because of how handsome Kurt had you two dress."

Blaine looked down at his black button down shirt tucked into his black dress slacks and his red and yellow polka dot bowtie, the only aspect of his outfit he had been allowed to choose. While he didn't agree with the lack of freedoms, he had to admit he didn't look half bad.

Kurt on the other hand… well Kurt made Blaine question everything and everyone he'd ever thought was beautiful. He had on simple black dress slacks, identical to Blaine's, a white button down shirt and a black vest. He wore a black fedora instead of his usual bandana and had forced Blaine to choose between a bowler hat and a top hat for himself. Blaine had chosen the bowler hat in a heartbeat.

After more pictures from all four adults, the boys were finally allowed out of the room and off to the hospital's social hall, where the dance would take place. Upon entering the room, they saw the lights were dimmed, there was a deejay playing upbeat dance music and a table was set up with various snacks and drinks. There were a few nurses Blaine recognized perched around the room playing chaperone and various patients were dressed in clothing similar to Kurt and Blaine's that milled awkwardly around the room.

"Told you it's awkward," Blaine mumbled. Kurt chuckled.

"It's not that bad. Someone just needs to get the party started." Kurt grabbed hold of Blaine's hand and pulled him toward the makeshift dance floor.

Once he managed to drag the other boy the distance to the floor, he forced him into a dance that moved in synchronization to the beat. Blaine couldn't help but laugh at Kurt's efforts and continued grinning as he saw slowly, one by one, other patients come to the dance floor and begin to dance to the beat with the others.

"You started a trend," Blaine said.

"That was the goal," Kurt replied, his eyes twinkling with happiness and satisfaction.

**x.x.x.x**

The two spent the next hour and a half dancing, resting, talking to the other patients and repeating the process. Once they had gone through the process a number of times, the two took a seat in a corner away from the excitement for they could talk, at Kurt's request.

"I hate to admit this, but I'm glad you dragged me to this," Blaine murmured in Kurt's ear as the other boy rested his head on Blaine's shoulder. "I'm having a lot of fun."

"Well, I'm happy to hear that," Kurt mumbled tiredly. "We all need those moments."

"What moments?"

"Just those moments where you can forget everything else that's going on around you. Where you can just…" Kurt trailed off and Blaine could feel him take a deep breath before sitting up and looking the other boy in his hazel eyes, "pretend we're at our prom instead of a dance for cancer kids. Like we won't be told at any moments that we're going to die in so-and-so number of days."

"Where I can forget that I don't want to let myself kiss you right now," Blaine said in a voice so quiet, he wasn't sure if Kurt could hear him. When a look of surprise and confusion spread across the boy's face and into his beautiful eyes, Blaine knew he'd heard. And he took advantage of the moment of weakness in himself to close the distance between him and Kurt and place his lips lightly on the other boy's.

Blaine could feel Kurt's surprise, but he quickly relaxed into the kiss within a matter of seconds. Blaine knew that this was one of the greatest moments of his life: being able to hold a person he loved close to him like this and feel peace for the first time since he could remember. That was how it was supposed to be.

They pulled away moments later, a tired but happy smile playing on Kurt's lips and a giddy smile pulling on Blaine's.

"Well," Kurt breathed, "that was… unexpected."

"But long overdue," Blaine contradicted.

"Touché," Kurt said, leaning in to press his lips softly against Blaine's again.

**x.x.x.x**

Blaine never remembered falling asleep that night.

He couldn't get his brain to stop yelling at him and he spent his sleeping time in inner turmoil.

_He likes you! He kissed you back!_

_What are you doing? You can't get close to him! One cold virus and you're gone!_

_He likes you!_

_Don't do it!_

_He likes you!_

_Don't do it!_

And after ten minutes, he had a headache.

Every once in a while, he'd look over at the boy in the bed next to him, sleeping very soundly, something Blaine couldn't deny being jealous of. Being able to watch Kurt in such a relaxed state made Blaine feel slightly better though. He was glad at least one of them was getting a good night's sleep.

He must have dozed off at some point, because the next thing he knew, he was awake, staring at Kurt's empty bed and listening to quite a bit of commotion coming from outside in the hall.

"This is my son," a lower, loud voice, one Blaine recognized as belonging to Burt, yelled. "You can't tell me I can't be in there!"

The yelling continued and Blaine could hear crying coming from a female, one he assumed was Carole. He took a deep breath and swung his legs over the side of the bed so he was standing up. His bones aching, he practically waddled out of the room, still in his pajamas.

Before he could question anything, he found Burt, Carole and Finn all in tears and Bill, standing by a door that Blaine knew led to the hallway where they brought people who were…

And then it hit him.

"No," he said, turning to look at the Kurt's family and Bill, all of which had finally noticed he was standing there. "No, no, no."

"Blaine," Bill said softly, making his way over to the boy. But he wouldn't have it.

"Tell me it's not true," Blaine demanded, an angry and bitter edge to his voice. "Tell me he had surgery and they were trying to remove his cancer. Tell me it went well and they just had to keep watching him. Tell me he's still in surgery for God's sake, but don't tell me what this looks like because I know it can't be true."

No one said a word. There was nothing to say. Everyone knew what was happening, but no one had the guts to tell the boy.

"Blaine," Burt spoke up first, having gotten to know Blaine through Kurt the last few months. He opened his mouth to say more, but it was obvious he was trying to hold back more tears and couldn't speak without crying.

"Blaine," Bill tried again, trying as hard as he could to hold his voice steady. "I know you know what's happening and you know I always tell you the truth—"

"But I don't want the truth!" Blaine exclaimed, tears of anger and complete heartbreak streaming down his face. "I've had a life of depressing news and for once, _for once_, I want happy news. Kurt is the first person who ever made me feel truly happy. You have no right to take him from me."

All three adults and Finn stood still in utter shock as Blaine collapsed. He dropped to the ground, knees pulled to his chest and broken sobs exploding from his body. No one knew what to do, so after a few minutes, Bill reluctantly ushered Finn, Burt and Carole to the room where Kurt was and when he returned, he sat next to Blaine, pulled him close, and cried with him.

**x.x.x.x**

A week later, Blaine was still numb.

Every day, one of Kurt's family members would stop by and take one or two of his things and check on Blaine. He never spoke to any of them, never even made eye contact. He had no desire, especially not with Burt because, although they looked nothing alike, he could only see Kurt when he looked at him out of the corner of his eye.

Bill had brought him in to see Kurt before they removed the body so it could be prepared for the wake. Blaine hadn't wanted to go, but he knew in his heart that he needed to see him before they took him away.

He hadn't looked much different than he'd looked while sleeping. His porcelain skin was just as smooth, his body calm and serene-looking. Blaine had taken his hand, taken aback by how cold it felt, and placed a kiss on his lips before leaving the room with tears falling slowly.

Blaine was sitting on his bed a few days after that when Burt walked in hesitantly, knocking lightly.

"Blaine?" he called quietly, even though he knew Blaine had no intention of answering him. "I found something in K—" he tried to say, tripping over Kurt's name, "K-Kurt's things that had your name on it. I…I didn't read it, but I thought you may want to." Burt crossed the room and put the folded paper on the nightstand next to Blaine's bed, walking out the door as soon as it was out of his hands.

Blaine ignored it for a while, continuing to stare off into space like he had for the past week. After about an hour, his curiosity got the best of him and he picked up the paper, unfolded it slowly and began to read.

_Blaine,_

_I don't know how long it's been. Hours? Weeks? Months? Years, even? However long, I hope it's you reading this and not anyone else. This was written as a solace for you because I knew I'd die first. I've known for a long time._

_I was just too much of a coward to tell you._

_Let me catch you up. Yes, I did have bone cancer, but it was more. That's why they put me in here. They saw it spreading, potentially to my lungs and heart, and they wanted to try to keep it under control. But my guess is that they couldn't. My prediction is that it got to my heart, hurt the passages that takes blood into my heart and that was that. Just a guess._

Blaine later found out that this was, indeed, the case.

_Whatever it was though, I hope you weren't there. As selfish as that is, I would never want the person I love to suffer through watching me die. Even if you don't or didn't care about me like I did for you. I still hope this wasn't the case._

_I hope a lot of things, though. It's the night before prom. My first dance ever. I'm so excited. I hope that we have an amazing time. I hope that I can actually get you to wear your outfit. I hope… Okay so this is what I hope for the most. You ready?_

_I hope that I'm able to tell you how much I love you. If not tomorrow, then sometime before you read this. I hope that I'm able to kiss you and have you kiss me back and enjoy it as much as I will. I hope we're at least able to have one perfect night, or day, or __moment__ where everything is perfect. Where everything is as it should be._

_Okay, I'm done talking about what I want. I'm about to cry, so I'm going to end this letter because I don't want to wake you and I don't want to get water drops all over this and smudge the ink._

_By the way, do you know how cute you look when you're sleeping?_

_I love you Blaine Devon Anderson. I truly do. I wish you the greatest, longest life with someone you love who loves you and treats you like you deserve. Although I don't believe in God, I'll be forever watching over you. Wherever I end up._

_-Kurt_

Blaine could smell the lingering scent of Kurt on the paper as he pushed the letter aside. He put his head in his hands and allowed himself to cry.

**x.x.x.x**

**Three Months Later**

Things never got better for Blaine.

Every passing day urged him to miss Kurt even more than he had the day before. It barely got easier and Blaine couldn't tell if it was by way of the world or because he read Kurt's letter at least twice every day.

But, although he'd never admit it, he felt mildly happy that third week of August when he felt his nose begin to fill with mucus and his throat start to ache just the slightest bit.

He knew a cold when he was getting one. He'd had enough of them in his lifetime to know. And, while he knew he hadn't wanted to find a virus, a little part of him was a little happy. Even though he didn't know if it would actually be the end of him.

He was, though, possibly one step closer to finally being able to see his Kurt. And since Blaine had grown up in a very Christian house, he knew that, if he died, this were true.

The cold got worse as days passed by. He had trouble catching his breath and his coughing fits would give him such bad headaches, he thought he was going to die right then and there. The migraines came by the end of the second week and Blaine found himself actually wanting to die just to end the agony.

The final day came after about three weeks of fighting and struggling with no result.

Blaine was lying in his bed, weaker than he could ever remember feeling. His lungs felt heavy as he struggled to get a breath and he could feel his heartbeat slowing. His parents and Cooper were on either side of his bed and Bill was standing over him. He claimed he was there for medical reasons, but they all knew the truth. He'd become a part of their family and it was hurting him as much as it was hurting the rest of them.

When Blaine became so exhausted purely from breathing he spoke. "Paper," he whispered, his voice raspy and so weak that Cooper, someone who rarely ever cried outside of a character he was portraying in a movie, had to suppress a sob. All four leaned in close to listen.

"In… notebook," he continued. "G-Give it to Burt."

The Andersons and Bill looked at each other with confused looks on their tear-stained faces as Blaine tried to take a deep breath. His lungs only allowed him to breathe in so far before he coughed. He felt his heartbeat slow down further as his eyes drifted shut, allowing a feeling of peacefulness to wash over him.

_I'm coming Kurt…_

**x.x.x.x**

A week later, Cooper Anderson found himself on the front porch of a modest house in Lima. He double checked the address on his slip of paper to make sure it matched that of the house he was at before knocking on the door.

Five seconds passed before the woman he'd come to know as Carole appeared in front of him.

"Hi Cooper," she said solemnly. "Come on in." She ushered him in and he nodded his gratitude.

"Now what can I do for you?" she asked as she shut the door.

"I was wondering if Burt was around. B—" Cooper paused, swallowing the lump in his throat that always seemed to accompany the mention of his baby brother's name. He took a deep breath, trying again. "B-Blaine said he wanted us to give him something."

Carole nodded sympathetically. "Ahh yes. He's around here somewhere…" She patted Cooper's shoulder and walked off, returning a minute or so later with Burt.

"How are things going?" he asked, giving Cooper the friendly handshake they always exchanged. Burt had a sympathetic look on his face similar to Carole's.

"You know." Cooper sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It never gets better, but it's still raw, so we're hoping it'll get more bearable."

"It will," Burt reassured quietly. "It gets easier to handle, but you're right. It never goes away."

The two stood in silence, letting Burt's words hang in the air.

"Well." Cooper cleared his throat, pulling a folded piece of paper out of his back pocket. "This is for you. B-Blaine's last words were th-that we give this to you." He handed the paper over and Burt nodded. "We never read it. We assumed that if h-he had wanted us to read it, he would have said so."

"Thank you." Burt pulled Cooper into a hug, both men trying not to cry, but eventually losing the battle and letting the tears slip down their faces.

Upon pulling away, Cooper hastily wiped away the tears from his cheeks. "Well, um, I'm just gonna…" He motioned to the door in a dramatic, Cooper-esque fashion. "Head out now."

"Okay," Burt responded, offering a sad wave as Cooper made his way down the sidewalk to his car at a brisk pace. Burt watched from the window until the car was out of sight before turning to the paper. He made his way to the living room and sat next to Carole on the couch. Neither said a word as Burt carefully unfolded the paper, both leaning in to read the rushed, sloppy script.

_Kurt,_

_I want to get this done before you come back from your treatment because you can't know I'm writing this because then you'll ask why I'm writing it and I don't think I could tell you. So I'm taking the cowardly way out and writing you a letter so when I die, you'll have answers from me, not Bill or some other doctor._

_Okay. Here goes. I didn't get pulled away from our debate by Bill so he could tell me about this new treatment option, or that I'm doing much better, or anything like that. Apparently all the stupid stuff they've been doing to me to try to make me better has actually been killing my immune system. It's gotten so bad that basically a cold could kill me if it hits me the wrong way. After it's tortured me physically and all that jazz._

_I know I'm being blunt and frankly bitter, but you're (technically) the only person who knows about this as of now. Obviously my parents will soon, but not as of this second. So I have to let my anger out now. I'm sorry._

_The main reason I'm writing this though (other than why I already told you) is to tell you what I haven't been able to say up until this point. I'm too scared for you and myself so I just couldn't do it. But I'm going to now._

_I love you Kurt. I love you so much; I don't know how to properly put what I feel into words. I know we haven't known each other THAT long, but I'm sure of this. I've never met anyone who's as strong as you. I've never met anyone as truly beautiful as you. I've never meet anyone as funny and kind-hearted as you. And I doubt I ever will._

_You helped me come out of my shell and trust others. For the last few years, I've had such a hard time trusting anyone outside of the family and Bill. Typical cancer kid stuff; you don't want to have people around who just feel sorry for you or only want you around so they can meet a movie star or some other famous person._

_That also goes hand-in-hand with me not letting myself come out of the shell I'd created for myself. I was terrified that if I got close to someone, I'd die and they'd have to deal with it (no to be conceded and assume that everyone (or anyone for that matter) would cry if I died. No one probably would)._

_You're the first person, after my second diagnosis, outside of my family that I've allowed myself to get close to. You hold a special place in my heart, one that I'm confident no one else could ever and will never claim. And for that I'm eternally grateful._

_I hope that, before you read this, you know how I feel. Whether you find this (since you told me you were a Hufflepuff and everyone knows that they're particularly good finders) or I work up the nerve to tell you, no one deserves to be told how much they're loved more than you._

_I think I hear your footsteps… I must have been working on this for a long time. Oh well._

_I love you so much Kurt. We will be together forever, no matter what the universe has planned for us. Because I'm positive you're my soul mate._

_Forever and ever,_

_Blaine_


End file.
